Chapter 4 ATHENA
ATHENA
The next week flew by filled with trip prep, late-night dates with Mason, and my impulsive mission to bake a thank-you cake for my parents.
The first attempt was a catastrophe, but the second was perfect.
A rich chocolate cake that even my father grudgingly called “good, and he is not a big fan of chocolate.
As promised, my mother softened my father, and he eventually agreed to the trip.
There was grumbling and muttering about safety, but in the end, Allyn King always wins.
Still, dinner each night became a lecture.
A repeated set of commandments drilled into our skulls like we were heading into a warzone.
“No drinking.”
“Keep your phone on.”
“Don’t talk to strangers.”
“Location services on, always.”
“Don’t do anything stupid, Ace.”
By now, I could recite his warnings backwards in my sleep. He insisted his men would follow us “discreetly.” That was non-negotiable, and I didn’t push it. We got the yes, I wasn’t about to risk a no.
And this morning? All eyes were on us as Maddox King and his queen personally dropped their kids off at the bus. We stepped out of his matte black Audi like royalty slumming it among commoners. People stared, confused. Why weren’t we flying private?
Dad offered, of course, but Ace and I refused. We wanted to travel like everyone else, and experience it all. And thank God we did. I spent four hours laughing, cuddling against Mason, music loud, our friends louder. It was perfect.
“This is our villa!” Isadora beamed, dragging her suitcase up the stone path.
Of course it was VIP. Our parents definitely paid for the best. The resort was sprawling—over thirty villas, each hidden in lush green. Trees towered, hammocks swayed in the breeze, and sunlight danced across a private beach. There were private restaurants, clubs, and even a gaming center.
Our villa was pure magic. Two floors, five bedrooms, five bathrooms, a huge living room, a sleek kitchen, and our own pool. I couldn’t stop smiling.
We unpacked fast and dove into getting ready for the welcome party. Ace and Mason had vanished, probably already sipping whiskey somewhere. That left us girls alone to gossip and dress.
“What are you wearing tonight?” Isadora asked, turning to me as she applied her lipstick, a lethal red that matched her aura perfectly. Her white mini-dress shimmered under the lights, and her silver heels made her look like a goddess.
“I thought this,” I said, holding up a long red dress. Simple and elegant.
Isadora’s smile faltered. “It’s… pretty. Just not really the vibe, you know?”
I sighed and dropped it on the bed, scanning my suitcase.
“You can wear something of mine,” she offered with a grin. “Actually, I have the perfect dress.”
I should’ve argued, but I didn’t. She came back holding something I’d barely classify as clothing. A black mini-dress—shiny, tight, short.
“Try it on!” Isadora clapped.
I slipped into it, and when I turned to the mirror, my jaw dropped. It fit. It clung in all the right places, revealing curves I forgot I had.
“Perfect,” Isadora grinned. “You’re so freaking hot.”
“I’d hate to be Mason,” Seraphina smirked. “One wrong move and someone else is taking you tonight.”
“Seraphina!” I gasped, shooting her a glare.
“Relax. He’ll just have to keep a very close eye on you tonight.”
I gave myself one last look in the mirror. I didn’t recognize the girl staring back. She wasn’t classy or careful, and for tonight? That was the point.
——
The club was already packed when we arrived. Jeremih’s Down On Me pulsed through the walls, shaking the air. People danced under the flashing lights. One of the staff led us to our VIP table, and as we walked through the club, I felt eyes on us. A lot of them.
Some whispered, but most just watched. I felt exposed, but then I looked at Isadora and Seraphina, sauntering ahead like they owned the place, and I copied them. Chin up and shoulders back like I own the place.
We reached the table. Mason and Ace were already there, drinks in hand, laughing at something on Mason’s phone. When Mason saw me, his eyes dropped to my dress, and stayed there. My cheeks flushed under his gaze.
He stood, eyes scanning every inch of me. “Damn, Athena, you look…” He trailed off, clearly struggling to find the right words
“Stupid, right? Blame your sisters,” I laughed, motioning to my outfit.
He shook his head, stepping closer, hands resting on my shoulders.
“Don’t say that. You look… different, but beautiful. You’re always beautiful, Athena.”
My knees almost gave out. That was the Mason effect. Ace leaned over, grinning.
“You should thank me,” he said.
“For what?” I asked.
“I got rid of Dad’s men.”
“How?” My mouth dropped.
“Money,” he shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. “It buys silence, sis.”
He was right. But if Dad found out… well, may the bodyguards rest in peace. Still, I lifted my glass.
“Cheers to that.”
Vodka burned down my throat, warm and electric. I liked it here. I liked this me.
—
Hours passed, and more people filled the VIP section. Strangers danced with my friends, but Mason and Ace vanished. Then a guy I didn’t know tried dancing with me. Shorter than me. Drunk and ignorant of the word no. I pushed him away and left. I needed Mason.
I searched the dance floor, the bar, the restrooms—nothing. Then I thought maybe he’d stepped outside. He does that when he’s drunk, so I made my way out. The night air hit my skin, cool and sobering. I saw a small fenced garden near the club, barely lit, nearly hidden.
It felt like Mason. Quiet and private.
I stumbled toward it, heels tapping against the path, my buzz still strong, but when I stepped inside, he wasn’t there. I sighed, turning to leave— And froze.
A tall figure stood at the exit. All black. Hidden in shadow, watching. My breath hitched, and my body froze. Something about him felt familiar. And then he stepped forward, and light hit his face.
That scar. That face. The same man from that party.
“Little late for a pretty girl to be wandering around dressed like this, don’t you think, dollface?”
“What are you doing here?” I asked, too blunt, too breathless.
“What do you think I’m doing here?” He smirked.
“You’re stalking me.”
His lips twitched. Not a denial.
“You should be careful,” he said, stepping closer. “Bad things happen in the dark.”
‘’I was looking for my friend.’’
‘’Sure, dollface’’ he laughed. His voice held warning, but his eyes held softness. I should run, but I didn’t.
“I have… I have to go back,” I whispered, the words barely escaping my throat. I looked up at him through my lashes, heart thudding, voice trembling. He cocked his head, raising an eyebrow, waiting for me to move. I didn’t.
“You should,” he said, voice hoarse. I hadn’t realized I’d been staring at the worn black fabric of his T-shirt until I felt the rough drag of his fingers beneath my chin. He tilted my face toward him, forcing my gaze to lock with his.
The contact was simple, but too much. His fingers were calloused, his skin cold, but somehow, it burned against mine.
“You have to find your… friend.” His tone made the word sound like a joke.
“Can you tell me your name?”
The question slipped from my mouth, uninvited. I gasped, lips snapping shut like I’d confessed something forbidden. Why did I ask that? Why did I care to know the name of a man I shouldn’t ever see again?
He took his time answering. His eyes dragged across my face as his thumb idly stroked my chin. I didn’t move, I couldn’t. His touch wasn’t like Mason’s. It wasn’t soft or sweet. But I liked it in some twisted way.
“Why should I do that, dollface?” he said, voice a low hum in the space between us. His eyes dipped to my mouth—and lingered. Long enough to make my skin flush. I thought he might kiss me. But instead, his gaze lifted, cold and unreadable.
“Because I’ll tell you mine,” I whispered.
He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear with a tenderness that didn’t match the danger in his eyes. He ran his tongue across his bottom lip, and the motion had me hypnotized.
“But I already know your name, Athena.”
My lips, inches from his mouth. I wet them, trying to respond, but nothing came out.
Run. The voice in my head was screaming. Run, Athena. He’s dangerous. But I didn’t run. I leaned into his touch, against every instinct.
“How do you know my name?” It came out barely louder than a breath. He moved closer, just enough for me to feel his mint-laced breath warm against my face. He was calm and unbothered, while I was trembling.
“Don’t worry your pretty little head about that,” he murmured, brushing his knuckles down my cheek. His hand was rough, and cold. Alien against my soft skin.
“I might tell you my name,” he said. “But I’ll want something in return.”
“What?” My voice cracked with desperation. I hated the way it sounded. A small twitch of amusement pulled at his dimple.
“Meet me here. Tomorrow at midnight.”
“Why would I do that?” I blinked. The idea was insane. He could be a killer, stalker, or both. He tilted his head, watching me with quiet challenge.
“Because you want to,” he said. His hand slid down my shoulder, tracing a line of heat across my skin.
I gasped as his arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me into him.
Our bodies collided. I reached up instinctively, bracing myself against his chest. My fingers curled in the fabric of his shirt. A low groan vibrated from his throat.
We were so close. One breath apart. He could kiss me if he wanted to. Do I want him to?
“Meet me tomorrow night,” he whispered, leaning in closer. “I’ll give you my name. You have my word.”
“Why should I trust you?”
“You shouldn’t,” he said, without hesitation. “But you want to.”
I didn’t hear his words after that. I stared at his lips, hypnotized by their shape, and I closed my eyes as if waiting.
But the kiss never came. Instead, I felt cold air brush against my skin. My eyes snapped open, and he was gone. Vanished into the dark, like smoke. Like he’d never been there at all. Only the ghost of his hands on my body proved otherwise. Then my phone buzzed. I looked down.
‘’Where are you?’’ - Mason
I wrote a quick reply before slipping my phone back into the tiny purse that suddenly felt too small for the weight it carried.
The idea of seeing Mason, once so urgent it set my nerves on fire, didn’t burn quite as fiercely anymore.
What did that say about me? I must be losing my mind—entertaining the thought of meeting a stranger whose name I didn’t even know.
‘’Meet me at midnight and I’ll give you my name.’’
His voice echoed in my head, slow and smooth like honey laced with poison. I shouldn’t go. God, I know I shouldn’t. My sanity screamed at me to forget it, but then there was that other voice. The quiet, sinful one.
Do it.
It whispered like smoke curling under a locked door, and I was losing the fight. Because as I stood there, waiting for Mason, the boy I thought I wanted forever with—I couldn’t stop thinking about him.
The stranger with the rough hands and unreadable eyes. That sharp jaw and the way he tasted my name like it belonged on his tongue. His cold touch still tingled against my skin, as if it had seeped under the surface and stayed there.
He looks like a secret I wasn’t supposed to know, and tomorrow night, I might learn his name. If I go. If I dare.